Unprecedented
by starlightwilight
Summary: What was happening to me? Overcome with emotion, I knew there was only one explanation. But how? It was unprecedented. Quil POV on meeting Claire for the first time. For sillybella's September challenge.
1. A Meeting

**Unprecedented**

**"A Meeting"**

**A/N:** **What happened when Quil imprinted on Claire? Quil POV.**

**This oneshot is for sillybella's September Challenge.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Quil, Embry, Emily, Sam, or any of Stephenie Meyers' other characters, plots, ideas, etc. **

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"_Please_, that was at _least_ 100 miles an hour! I won!" I pulled on my shorts and grinned back at Embry as he followed me out of the trees and across the yard to Emily's place. Racing reached a whole new level when you were a – I savored the word – _werewolf_. Every part of this new identity was amazing: the speed, the strength… the racing at _100 miles per hour_! I was no longer excluded, constantly wondering what was going on, or panicked with worry about what had happened to my friends. Now I was one of the pack, and the sense of… of _family_… was more powerful than I had ever expected. I was experiencing the happiest times of my life. 

Which included racing, and beating, my brothers. Who can out-run cars on slow days.

Embry scowled and muttered an interesting mix of threats and profanities under his breath.

"Sorry? Didn't catch that," I smirked at him and opened the freshly painted door without knocking. He glared and trailed sullenly after me, slamming the door shut. I raised an eyebrow at the ominous cracking noise that followed.

"Careful with that door – Emily will make you replace it, like she made Paul do the last time he broke it. I laughed when he eyed door nervously, and his head snapped back around toward me.

"Rematch. Tonight." He growled. I smiled patronizingly at him and grabbed a couple of cookies.

"You're on. And I'll win again," I warned him, and stuffed a cookie in my mouth. I _loved_ Emily's cooking. And speaking of Emily…

I looked around curiously, unconsciously sniffing the air.

"Where is she?" Embry had noticed that Emily wasn't here at almost the same time I did. It was odd for her not to be at home right now; we had basically memorized her schedule, so we were used to knowing where she was at all times. Sam had become rather paranoid lately – with good reason, there was a vicious bloodsucker on the loose. He worried when she was left alone. And I was actually beginning to get concerned – where was our alpha's fiancée?

"Do you think we should go look for her?" Embry asked anxiously from the round table where he was sitting. I frowned, trying to remember if Sam had said – or rather, thought – anything different about where Emily would be today. Before I could say anything, we heard the sounds of a car driving up the dirt road.

Embry rushed to a front-facing window, but we were both already relaxing. We could hear Emily and Sam talking outside, and smell them as well. But there were two new scents mixed in: strangers. Young, female. Everything was fine; Sam must have just had his mind on other things today. Oh, right… I _knew_ what he had been thinking that day, I had heard it too. Because we were _werewolves_.

He already knew we were inside, of course. "I hope you two didn't eat _everything_ in here – I'm hungry." Sam commented as he pushed open the door, glancing at a few barely noticeable cracks that traced their way down the back. He raised his eyebrows, looking questioningly at the two of us, and held the door open for his sole-mate.

"Embry's a sore loser," I grinned cheekily at Sam, answering his unasked question while Embry scowled again and looked away. "He has anger management problems, for some strange reason."

Sam just rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Emily, who was coming through the door carrying a young girl. Embry and I looked at her curiously. She had dark, slightly curly hair and Emily's almond-shaped eyes.

"Hey boys." Emily had noticed our interest. She smiled warmly at us, her family. "This is one of my nieces, Katie. She's four, and a little shy – DON'T try to scare her." Emily looked meaningfully at me as Katie hid her face in the curve of her neck, and then gestured to someone behind her.

Embry snorted and I smiled innocently, the picture of a well-mannered wolf-boy. "Don't worry, I'll be good," I promised. "I won't…"

Everything stopped when the other girl came through the door.

And then… _something happened_… the world was thrown into fast-forward, with surround-sound volume turned as high as it could go.

An explosion of foreign emotion. Warm waves of generosity, selflessness, caring, kindness, and – most surprisingly – _tenderness_ swept through me, knocking me over and whirling me around. I didn't even know what to _call_ some of them; I didn't know what they were! Confusion and anxiety and warmth… _What was happening!?_ All I could figure out was that I suddenly wanted to do nothing but be around this little girl, to take care of her, to protect her. To do _anything_ for her.

No matter _what_ it took.

I was completely overwhelmed, I couldn't figure out what was going on. Nothing like this had ever happened to me. Everything that had been, before, was no longer. My life had suddenly tilted, shifted – the center of my world now rested somewhere behind the deep, dark brown eyes of a toddler.

She stood next to Emily and gazed solemnly up at me. I could tell right away that she was not as shy as her sister, although she had the same black hair and almond-shaped eyes as Katie. I stood frozen, my eyes wide with shock and my mind reeling as the torrential waves of emotion continued to crash over me, more powerful than a hurricane. As though from far away, I vaguely realized that Emily was talking. It shocked me to realize that I could only even comprehend what Emily was saying because… because she was talking about _her_.

"… And this is Claire, she's two. My sister's out of town right now, so I volunteered to look after them for a week…"

Emily's voice trailed off. I yearned for more information about the two-year-old angel that I had the privilege to stand in the same room with. I now knew her name; I _wanted_ to know _everything_. Her favorite food, drink, color. What she wanted to be when she grew up. What made her laugh, so I could hear it. What made her cry, so I could prevent it. Her ambitions, hopes, dreams… if she had any yet. Did perfect beings truly need anything that I could provide? I could at least try. I wished that Emily would begin talking again; I _needed to know_ these things! I needed, and truly _wanted_, to know everything about the child. It was essential, for some strange, urgent reason. But I was in no condition to request anything. My eyes were busy watching Claire, who continued to look at me, curiously now. I had forgotten how to work my mouth.

"Um… Quil?" Emily said tentatively. Though barely paying attention, I watched out of the corner of my eye as she looked with a confused countenance from me to the girl. "What are you…?"

She stiffened. This reaction surprised me enough to tear myself away from the cherubic child's face, and I watched her turn to Sam with a mixture of dawning comprehension… and horror.

"Is it…? Did he…?" Emily croaked, unbelieving, pleading with Sam to tell her that it was impossible. Claire was a baby! But from Sam's memories I knew he had once experienced something similar…

I turned to Sam with the same question in my eyes. I had to know.

He stared at me. He had watched my reaction to Claire in a stunned silence. No, I realized. An _understanding_ silence. It was a strange déjà vu, for him. With one noticeable, disturbing difference. Was this possible? She was so young! So vulnerable, so innocent, so precious, so…

Jeez, I have to snap out of it! _What was happening to me?_ I waited, with pleading eyes, until Sam began to speak.

"I have never heard of this happening," he began, slowly and haltingly. "Except in the legends." He closed his eyes in confirmation and shock.

I couldn't doubt him.

He knew _exactly_ what it felt like; I could hear it in his voice, see it on his face. I had heard it in his thoughts. He had gone through the same thing when he imprinted on Emily.

And now I knew that I had imprinted on a two-year-old.

Embry looked almost as astounded as I felt. Almost. Emily was trying to pull herself together, though I could tell that she thought the whole situation was unnerving. I wondered how she would explain to her sister; she would have to say _something_ about why I would be at their house so much.

Because I would be. Often.

Sam just stood there with a focused expression, arms crossed, adding the new information to his mental "werewolf files" that the legends had told the truth, again. We would have to stop underestimating them.

And I finally turned back to face the angel-child. She was still staring up at me, bemused. And I found it adorable. I hadn't even known that I _could_ find something adorable! It was so _weird_… and yet, _so right_. Staring into her warm brown eyes, a feeling of completion stealing over me, I had several consecutive epiphanies.

I knew I would never be the same. I was reevaluating everything I had ever known, thought, or guessed about what being a werewolf was; there was so much more that I had never realized. I had never thought about what might happen if I imprinted, or what the consequences could be. But really, none of that mattered much. The only thing that mattered now was this little person, this angelic being, who I cared about more than anything, even my own life.

The phrase "reality check" is an understatement.

But it had never felt so _sweet_.

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**A/N:** **Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to give your thoughts or constructive criticism in reviews; I love any advice on how to become a better writer! **


	2. An Ending

**Unprecedented**

**"An Ending"**

**A/N: Thanks so much for everyone who has reviewed! I'm so, so happy you liked the first chapter, and since so many of you asked for more (and because I thought of a way to continue it), I've written a chapter two!**

**Thanks very much to bronzehairedgirl, who is a very wonderful person (and two-year-old expert) and agreed to beta this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Quil, Emily, Claire or any of Stephenie Meyer's other characters, plotlines, ideas, etc. **

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"I don't care what you're doing, I need to give Claire a bath! Now get out!" Emily pointed towards her bedroom door, eyebrows narrowed. I tore my eyes away from Claire's face, which was twisted adorably in concentration, and pouted up at Emily from my position, lying on my stomach on the floor. We were busy, for crying out loud! Can't a man get some peace when he's trying to help a little girl with her coloring skills? I didn't want to leave the aspiring artist, sitting there coloring the dog in her book a lovely shade of green. I was so proud of my pupil. She even stayed inside the lines now! Well, kind of. But we were working on it. 

Emily just glared at me as I stood up to face her. "You've been with her all day! Claire's filthy from playing in the mud with you this morning, and then smearing peanut butter all over herself at lunch. And I know that while cleanliness is a foreign concept to wolf boys, it isn't to Claire's parents!" She concluded her rant by placing her hands against my chest and shoving, trying to push me out.

Emily was pretty strong, for a human. Too bad I wasn't human.

I stood still, with very little effort, and prepared to beg for five more minutes before Claire's bath. I mean, we had only been playing for… I glanced at the clock hanging on Emily's bedroom wall. Oh. Okay, so it _had_ been the entire morning. But time went by so _fast_ when it was spent with that adorable, mystifying, precious child!

I looked down suddenly, realizing that Emily was still trying to push me out. It was kind of funny how her feet were running in place on the slick wood floor. I grinned broadly down at her. She was now beginning to look frustrated, in addition to determined. I heard Claire laugh as she watched Emily's churning feet.

She had laughed! I felt my face begin to glow at the sound, ecstatic at the purely joyful noise that only an angel could emit. I was smiling so hard my face began to hurt; you'd think I'd never heard her laugh before! I mean, I _had_; I'd been making her laugh all day! But then, I had this reaction every time that bubbling, happy giggle was let loose. Especially when _I_ had caused it. _I could make her laugh!_

"Quil!" Oh, right. Emily was shouting at me. I hadn't noticed before, but she was starting to look kind of mad. Soon she was going to call Sam…

"All right, all right! Jeez, I'll get out." I winked down at Claire, who had stopped in the middle of determinedly shading the dog's eye purple, and was gazing at me anxiously as Emily gathered her up in her arms. I smiled stupidly when I realized, _she didn't want me to leave either!_ I tried to comfort her, though; I didn't like it when that baby wasn't absolutely, one-hundred-percent _completely_ happy. I smiled reassuringly, hoping she would cheer up.

"Don't worry, sweetie, we can finish that picture later. Maybe we can even start doing purple-eyed horses…"

I abruptly stopped talking as something Emily had said earlier finally registered in my brain. I choked, and then gasped out, "Wait… _why_ is she taking a bath again?"

Emily glanced back at me as she moved to close the door, still holding Claire. "She's dirty, and needs to get cleaned up, because her and Katie's parents are coming home this evening." Only now that she had the situation under control did I hear the quiver in her voice, revealing the apprehension that she had been hiding from me. She tried to reassure me with her eyes, to tell me it would work out, somehow, and then shut the door in my face. I heard the sound of water running and happy splashing from the bathroom connected to Emily's room as I turned away.

I already missed her, even if we were in the same house. I had, after all, dedicated my life to being whatever she needed, doing whatever she wanted – as often as possible.

And now something was threatening my choice. I growled just thinking about what could happen to Claire if she was left without protection… and I began to see why Sam was always so paranoid about Emily being left alone, what with all the bloodsuckers scurrying around these days. Disgusting. He tried to make sure at least one of us was with her almost all of the time, except when we were needed to fight or train. And I wanted nothing less for Claire.

But what if her parents didn't accept me? What if they thought we were all lunatics for believing the "crazy legends"? And even if they did understand about the… um… _animalistic_ side of our nature, (and I'm sure we could convince them – humans tend to believe what they _see_…) what if they didn't want that for their daughter? Or what if they didn't understand our relationship? It was too easy to come to the wrong conclusion, but it wasn't at _all _romantic. She was TWO, for crying out loud! We liked to color and make mud pies! (I even ate one for her, just because she had asked. What has gotten into me…?) How could her parents possibly understand our relationship, when even _I _didn't?

Would I be kept away from her, forbidden to even talk to her again? The thought of a forced separation from my angel threatened to throw me into a deep pit of depression - and despair. I growled, deep in my chest. That would never, _could_ never happen! They couldn't keep me away… could they? There were far too many questions that could be answered in a multitude of horrible ways. I knew I was in trouble: it was time to once again face the world.

The week of happy anonymity was up. It was time to tell the parents. And I had no idea how.

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**A/N: Thanks again for reading! I would appreciate a few reviews; I'm working on the next chapter right now & I need inspiration! **


	3. A Parting

**Unprecedented**

"**A Parting"**

**A/N: Wow guys, I'm really sorry that this took so long! I do have a couple of good excuses, mostly concerning huge amounts of homework (has anyone else noticed that teachers see "four-day weekend" as synonymous with "more time for homework"!?). ****Anyways, so I'm finally finished with Chapter 3.**

**Thanks tons and tons to bronzehairedgirl, the wonderful beta extraordinaire!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Quil, Emily, Claire, Sam or any of Stephenie Meyer's other characters, plotlines, ideas, etc.**

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The setting sun filtered through the clouds, lighting the road we were traveling on in a soft, subtle glow. I patted Claire's head, drooped awkwardly over the side of her uncomfortable-looking car seat that sat next to me in the back seat of Emily's minivan. She was fast asleep; her head was hanging over almost onto my lap and her mouth was wide open. I would have laughed if I hadn't been worried about waking her up, although I was slightly surprised that she could sleep at all in that thing. The car seat was just the latest of many things that I had never realized toddlers needed. Emily had looked scandalized when I yanked the car seat out of the car before Claire had gotten in. I hadn't grasped the idea that it was for her; I was just moving what I recognized as unnecessary junk out of the way. Emily got rather angry with me for throwing the seat; she was borrowing it from a friend. Luckily there was no harm done except to my own self-esteem. I clearly had a lot more to learn if I wanted to be able to protect Claire properly. But I would do it. I would do it for her. 

Claire breathed in deeply, then exhaled, emitting one of those cute, snuffly little almost-snores that babies make when they sleep. I smiled fondly down at her. The hypnotizing swaying motion of the car had accomplished what Emily could not, and lulled her into a deep, happy slumber.

Emily had tried to put Claire down for a nap after her bath, much to my dismay. I mean, she was almost three… did she _really_ need a nap, when there were so many better ways to spend that time? I had grown unaccountably anxious about her taking a _bath._ Emily had even been with her, for crying out loud! I wanted to see her again, just to make sure she was safe, warm and happy. Her obstinacy had delighted me when she refused to sleep, standing upright in the temporary crib in Emily's room and jabbering unintelligibly. She especially enjoyed making her new favorite sound, "Splat!" She had picked THAT word up after a certain mud pie hit Sam earlier that day, and that _I,_ of all people, was blamed for.

Emily had given up on a nap after I rushed into her room, grinning like an idiot, because Claire had started crying out her _other_ new favorite word. "_Quil_."

"Quil, what're you smiling at?" Katie was twisted around in her booster seat, looking back at me curiously. She had gotten over her initial apprehension after a few days, helped along by Claire's reception towards me. Once you got past the shyness, Katie was rather insightful for a four-year-old. She could tell that something was going on, but of course she had no possible idea of what it could be.

I shrugged. "Nothing much. Just thinking." She nodded at me, as though she understood. She eyed the two of us, Claire now slightly drooling onto my leg, and I wondered if she actually did understand, at least somewhat. I smiled reassuringly at Katie and she turned back around to face the front, already thinking about something else, to talk to Sam and Emily. She was okay with Claire and I being together, she trusted me. I sighed.

One member of Claire's family accepted me. Would the rest?

All my insecurities rushed back as I stared out the window at the darkening sky. Shadowy tree trunks flew by, in and out of view, going almost as fast as my thoughts. _What would I do if they didn't accept me?_ My heart burned at the merest thought.

Sam suddenly turned sharply left, pulling into a rocky driveway. My stomach clenched as we pulled through the ever-encroaching trees next to the small wooden house. I swallowed hard.

Her parents were waiting outside.

Claire's mother was a small woman, slender, with the same eyes as Claire, Emily, and Katie. It was clear whom her daughters resembled. Her father, on the other hand, was rather large and muscular. I might have been intimidated, if I wasn't just as big. And ten times as strong.

But it was _these_ people who I needed to win over. I had to convince them, once they knew the legends were true, and that I, a werewolf, had imprinted on their two-year-old daughter, to let me stay with Claire. And it was _this_ thought that scared me.

I gulped audibly, and Sam glanced back as he parked. I smiled uneasily at him.

"What would you say to coming up with a _really_ good excuse in about two seconds?" I asked him. It was glaringly obvious that I was getting desperate.

He just glared. Sam never _had_ had a sense of humor. He stared imperiously down at me. "We must tell them the truth… _everything._ It's the only way to convince them." His gaze searched me, making sure I understood, and then he climbed gracefully out of the car. I grumbled under my breath and followed suit, gathering Claire up in my arms. Man, she was tired –huh, so maybe she did still need naps. I would have to remember that. But maybe her parents would be in a better mood if she was already asleep…?

Looking down at the angel resting in my arms, I was again overcome by the bizarre emotions that were growing increasingly familiar: protectiveness, tenderness. There was nothing I would not do, or _be, _for her.

I straightened up, and immediately met the black, suspicious eyes of her father.

Emily was occupied, reuniting Katie and her mother, but Sam stood by my side. "Hello, Peter." Sam was trying to be friendly, but Claire's father simply nodded at him and turned back to me, his eyes zeroing in on his child.

"Who are you?" He asked distrustfully, accusingly. I gulped again, panicking, and attempted to come up with something that sounded sane, but instead was momentarily rescued by Katie, who ran up to hug her father. I sighed, relieved for the temporary reprieve from Peter's accusing glare.

I turned to see Emily coming toward me, her sister in tow. Emily was looking nervously toward the girls' father, but their mother was looking at me. She seemed concerned, but not overtly hostile, that a complete stranger had her baby in his arms.

"And who might you be?" she asked on approaching, eyes flickering down to Claire and then back to my face.

"This is Quil, Julia, he's a friend of Sam's who's been helping us with the girls. You know, Old Quil Ateara's grandson?" I could see that Emily was trying to play up my grandfather's reputation, and I saw the expected flash of understanding appear in Julia's eyes. She relaxed slightly. It was amazing how much better humans feel when they know someone's _name_.

"Hello, Quil," She said softly, and then scrutinized Claire. "I'm surprised she's asleep, she's normally still bouncing off the walls." Emily, looking at me from the corner of her eye, explained. "She was distracted today, and wouldn't take her nap." I smirked.

And Julia held out her arms, reaching for her child.

I knew she was Claire's mother, that she had primary responsibility for her. I _knew_ that. It didn't make it any easier to let go. I held Claire, feather-light in the arms of a werewolf, out to her mother, and released her.

The sensation that rocked me – of failure, almost mourning – should have warned me. I should have _recognized_ it as forewarning. Instead, I forced the feelings into a shadowy place of denial in the back of my brain. Julia smiled hesitantly, still somewhat confused as to who I was and why the heck I was here, and turned towards the house to put Claire in her bed, Katie following obediently behind. I again began to panic.

_It will work out. It will be all right. It will work out._ Now that Claire was out of sight the mantra, repeated over and over in my mind, refused to quell the feeling of dread enclosing itself around my heart.

"Quil?" I was pulled from my thoughts and turned my head, looking for the voice that I recognized as Sam's. "It's time to tell them." His voice was solemn, and I could see the worry in his eyes that did nothing to suppress my fear as he, Peter, Emily, and I headed towards the house. Peter still looked rather irritated at my presence. He wanted to know who the intruder was, and why I was at his home.

Somehow, I doubted that clarification would help.

* * *

"Are you _crazy_!?" Peter roared, his dark eyes flashing as he leapt up from the weathered couch he had been sitting on with Julia. He glared at Sam, Emily, and I, sitting on a couch facing them in the small living room of their house. 

He was not taking Sam's werewolf explanation well.

"Peter," Julie began hesitantly. She looked as though she wished she had waited to return after putting the girls in bed. "Maybe we should hear them out…?"

"They think that those crazy legends are real, and you want me to _hear them out_!?" He stared incredulously down at her.

Julia stared straight back, unintimidated. "Yes, I do. Now sit down and stop behaving like a lunatic." Despite the seriousness of the situation, I had to hide a smirk at the look on Peter's face after his wife's reprimand. He looked like he had a thing or two more to say about "lunatics," but slowly sat down again. I sighed, and stared out the small, now completely dark window, keeping myself from butting into the conversation. I had promised Sam that I would let him handle this – he didn't think I could control my temper.

"Now, could you please explain it one more time?" Julia looked coolly toward us. Just because she was fair didn't mean she was gullible.

My stomach began to tighten again. I had known that it wasn't likely they would believe us, and I wasn't sure how Sam could convince them, short of just showing them. _That_ would persuade them, not to mention how much _fun_ it would be to see their faces! I glanced at Sam, hoping he was coming to the same conclusion. Instead, he began his explanation for the second time.

"The legends of the Quileute tribe, the myth that the descendants of Taha Aki become werewolves, are true. Peter," Sam looked hard at the man, who was mouthing wordlessly. "You are a part of the Quileute tribe, you have heard these legends your entire life. And Julia," he turned to Claire's mother, who now looked as if she was searching for a way to doubt his reasoning. "Although you are part of the Makah tribe, you know of our legends. They are real; some among our tribe have the ability to become wolves…" Sam took a deep breath. "Including Quil and I."

I had almost forgotten that Emily and her sister weren't actually Quileutes, but it didn't really matter. There were many people in our tribes who were interrelated, and the Makah knew our legends almost as well as we did. It was clear that both Peter and Julia knew what we were talking about, but if their gaping mouths were anything to go by, they still didn't believe it.

Sam sighed. "How can I convince you?" I grinned – I knew a way – but perhaps Sam didn't want to scare them by actually _showing_ them, as I desperately wanted to. Just to knock some sense into them!

Peter was still struck dumb, but Julia seemed to have pulled herself together and was now gazing shrewdly at Emily. I could almost see a sudden connection flow between the two sisters, and they stared hard at each other for a few seconds. Slowly, Julia began to speak. "Is this what was going on when you and Sam were having some 'trouble?'"

Emily nodded, visibly relieved. "Yes, that's the reason I suddenly couldn't confide in you. There was too great a chance that something might slip." An understanding seemed to come over them then; and a tension between the two women that I hadn't noticed before had suddenly disappeared. Apparently a previous misunderstanding, concerning Emily's behavior when she began to date Sam, had just been nullified. Even better, I knew that Julia now had some kind of proof that all was not as it seemed; she knew it had taken something big to disrupt her and her sister's relationship. Julia believed us.

I heaved a sigh of relief.

Peter still looked rather confused and apprehensive, as well as skeptical, but tried to follow his wife's lead. "All right then, so let's say that you're telling the truth. You and the boy are…" he couldn't seem to say the word.

"Werewolves?" I supplied, trying to be helpful. He just glared at me; I supposed I shouldn't make his insecurities obvious if I wanted to get on his good side. If I wanted to be with Claire.

"Yes, that… so why are you telling us this _now_?"

I sharply inhaled, and Sam and Emily exchanged a swift, anxious glance. This was the hard part. Sam began speaking again, slowly, in his deep, calm voice. Maybe Sam, our leader, the Alpha wolf, could accomplish what few others could.

"As werewolves, there are certain… traits, characteristics… _behaviors_ that we acquire." He paused, and took a deep, slow breath. "One of these is something called _imprinting._ It's mentioned in the legends; a phenomenon that happens very occasionally… or so we thought."

Sam stopped, seemingly unsure of how to continue. I looked nervously at Claire's father, to see comprehension dawning across his features.

"Wait, I think I've heard this one." He scrunched up his face, dredging up memories. "Isn't that when… one of you… falls in love, or something like that?"

Sam hesitated. "It's similar, but far more powerful, more absolute. And…" he glanced sideways at me. "Depending on age, not necessarily _romantic_ love…"

"Wait, _what_ does this have to do with _us_?" Julia interrupted. She had sat quietly through this explanation, trying to understand, but she didn't seem to have heard the last bit that Sam had said, the _very_ important, _relevant_ part. I was beginning to breathe faster now. They had understood, up to a point, so far; I had begun to hope. I had begun to believe that it actually would work out. But at her words the ever-present panic arose once again from the pit of my stomach. I wrenched my thoughts away from despair and again concentrated on Sam.

"Well, you see," Sam looked more nervous than I had ever seen him. "Something happened when Quil here met your daughters. Quil… Quil imprinted… on Claire."

This thought was processed in dead silence, the growing horror in Claire's parents' eyes a premonition of what soon followed.

Peter surged up from his seat, for the second time that evening. The stress was finally too much for him, too much unbelievable, foreign, horrifying information.

"How could that have happened!?" He was practically _howling_. "We don't even know this boy, and thinks he's in _love_ with my _two-year-old daughter_!?"

His wife was again looking at Emily, this time hopelessly, helplessly. Incredulously. She didn't understand either! When Emily did not contradict Sam, Julia turned away from her, shunning her, to glare daggers at me. I flinched when I saw the pain in her eyes; that she was separating herself from Emily for something beyond either of their control. But her fury at the situation she found herself in was directed solely at me. She would not be so accepting this time. And she didn't even have to say anything – her husband was articulate enough for the both of them.

_"You_!" he bellowed, spitting in his rage, and he turned on _Emily_, of all people. "How could you have let this happen? How could you have let that _boy_ near her in the first place?!" Emily stared defiantly back at him, though she seemed slightly shocked that he was blaming her – the human. I could see that Sam was controlling himself with more difficulty than usual; he (very understandably) didn't like it when anyone threatened Emily.

And I began to growl, deep in my chest, at such a low pitch that humans couldn't hear it. I began to shake violently, and Sam flashed me a warning look – I needed to calm down. It was very important that I didn't lose my temper, and not just because I needed to make a good impression. Although that was certainly something to think about – I doubted Claire's parents would take to me if I suddenly exploded into a massive mutant canine in their living room.

If there was any chance of that left at all.

"You _pervert_!" Peter roared, again turning his wrath on me. "Get out of my house, stay away from my family! I never want to see you here again!" He jabbed his finger towards the door, and at the finality in his words, I snapped.

It was happening, my worst fear was coming true – I was going to be separated from Claire, from my foundation for existence. There was nothing left in my life; it had become meaningless. There was nothing but the searing pain of loss, I was drowning in agony and could no longer contain myself. I had to find release.

I barely got through the door before bursting into the colossal, chocolate-brown beast. For I knew now that that was what I was. I had always treated my life as a game, teasing with my family, reveling in my new strength and speed. But that was before. Before my world had been forever altered, before Claire, the beginning of reason. And now that that reason had been ripped away, there was nothing left to anchor me to my humanity.

All that was left was the rampaging beast, running through the woods as fast as I could go.

* * *

**A/N: Please don't hurt me, remember there is more coming! And besides, you have all read Eclipse, right? You should know how it ends. . . **

**Please review, I would greatly appreciate it!**


	4. A Revelation

**AN: So... yeah. It's been a while. Um... sorry about that!! It took me a really long time to get the story on paper, and I kept changing my mind about how I wanted it to turn out, and then editing took a really long time because the first version wasn't great, and there was family stuff and school stuff and life stuff... But it's finally finished, if anyone still wants to read it! :) Also, thanks to everyone who left reviews, I really appreciate it!**

**Thanks loads to bronzehairedgirl, whose scourging figurative pen cleansed my chapter until it the finished product was finally brought forth!! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Quil, Claire, Emily, Old Quil, or any of Stephenie Meyer's other characters, plotlines, ideas, etc.**

* * *

**Unprecedented**

"A Revelation"

I blundered through the woods, hardly hesitating with each half-hearted attempt at dodging the trees and rocks in my way. What I couldn't swerve around I blasted through; the object would explode into fireworks of splinters or pebbles. Each explosion became an echo, a reminder of the feeling in my soul. I flinched slightly in pain whenever I hit something particularly large, but I didn't stop – the momentary sensation was just something else to focus on. Something to shift my concentration, if only fleetingly, from the deeper pain that was tearing me into pieces inside, just as surely as I tore the trees to bits.

I couldn't go back. _I wasn't allowed to see Claire._

The guardian's sense of purpose I had so recently discovered had been stolen away, leaving loss and hopelessness behind – it was like a day with no sun, a child with no parent, a wolf with no pack.

Feet pounding, eyes burning, heart ripping, I ran. Faster, faster, _faster_. The trees blurred into a solid, impenetrable wall of black-green, an endless maze. I didn't know where I was going; I was simply searching for something, anything, to right the wrongness that had taken over deep within me.

I ran to escape, because I didn't know what else to do. Thoughts swirled through my head in a vortex of misery; if there was anything that we could have done differently, wild possible solutions to the problem that would never be resolved. It was utterly futile.

I should have known that it wouldn't have worked out with Claire's parents. It was just too many strange ideas thrust at them at once, too many concepts that challenged the logic of the human mind. They worried about their daughter, naturally. They had assumed incorrectly that Claire had no choice – no, that _I _wouldn't _let her choose_. As if I could do anything that would upset her! As though I cared nothing about what _she_ wanted! As if I didn't spend every waking moment thinking of ways to make her happy, and keep her safe! It was just too different – they couldn't understand why a teenage boy would want to protect their daughter, want to play with her for the pure joy of seeing her laugh. They couldn't see past the stereotype.

The recognition that failure had been inevitable did nothing but pain my heart a little more, rip it a bit wider – I had allowed myself to hope by not realizing this in the first place.

I stopped running, and came slowly to a halt in the middle of an unknown forest. There was nowhere to go. It was hopeless – everything was hopeless. I turned around and trudged back towards my house, passing the devastation of rocks and trees that were the result of a large animal's despair. A reminder of what I had lost.

* * *

Lying motionless on my bed, staring at the ceiling and slowly revolving fan, I tried to lose myself in the continuous rotation. I couldn't remember a time before this that I had been still for so long – I moved around even in my sleep. But I'd never sunk to such depression before, either. I'd never felt so pathetic.

I might have fallen asleep during that time – or maybe I had just fallen into a deeper stupor – but when a quiet sound roused me, it was the next day. The sun shone brightly through the window, at odds with both the normal forecast and my mood. The tentative knock on my door prompted only the slightest eye movement on my part – all that I felt capable of at the moment.

My grandfather stepped stiffly just inside my room, peering at me worriedly. Lying prone on my bed was not the most common position for me to be in, and clearly it was making him nervous. He leaned heavily on the doorknob, and cleared his throat gruffly.

"Quil, Emily just called – she wants to know if you would come over for a while. I'm not sure what she wants, but Sam says you're off duty today, so you're free." He continued staring at me, trying to judge my reaction.

Something stirred in the back of my mind, fighting its way through the helpful cobwebs that obscured more painful things. Emily's house? How could I go there? It was empty. Empty of the reason it had been the happiest place I had ever experienced. Empty of any "reason" at all. But then, wasn't the entire world? I suppose it didn't really matter where I hauled my pitiful body to, if everywhere was the same. I decided that I would go see Emily.

I didn't remember decisions being this hard to make, before.

Dragging myself up from the bed, I stumbled past my grandfather, who continued to stare at the back of my head as though he was trying to read my mind the way another wolf could. It wasn't until I had gotten outside the door and passed the store in front of my house that I realized I had forgotten to respond. I hadn't said anything to him. Not one word.

No wonder he was worried.

* * *

By the time I arrived at Emily's place, I was regretting it.

Emily's house held captive too many of last week's poignant memories, each reminding me once more of what I had lost. I stared around with dull eyes, aimlessly following Emily around her tiny yard while she pulled weeds beneath the streaming, _wretched_ sunlight. I could just imagine Claire here again, tugging at the swaying flowers and staring in confusion and fascination at the bugs she found in the dirt, contemplating such bizarre forms of life. I swallowed hard. I didn't know how much longer I could stay here, confronting bittersweet memories. And Emily certainly wasn't making it any easier.

"Do you remember when Claire wanted to go on the roof on Thursday, while I was fixing the gate hinge? You obliged and were halfway up the side by the time I looked around to stop you! _How_ you didn't realize that bringing a _baby_ on the roof was _dangerous_… " She shook her head, smiling ruefully. I grunted noncommittally, avoiding her occasional glance and trying to ignore the depression coiling in my stomach, hoping she would take a hint and drop it. She didn't.

"And then, the look on your face when I started yelling at you! For five minutes straight, you just sat there – practically _blushing_ – while I lectured you on your ignorance of baby care, and I think Claire was just trying to figure out when you were going to give her a ride back up –"

I stopped her mid-sentence, unable to continue listening. "Emily, I really don't think I can talk about this right now." Or ever. "We had fun last week, but… I think Claire's parents are going to prevent her from coming anywhere near me" – gulp – "ever again. So, could you just… stop?"

She snorted. I finally looked at her, slightly hurt.

"I think you're being an idiot." She looked down her nose at me – a difficult feat, considering I was about a foot taller. "Do you really think you're never going to see Claire again? Clearly, _you_ haven't seen the same things that _I_ have these past few days."

I could do nothing but stare stupidly at her; after all, I'd seen _plenty_ this last week. I had met an angel, and taught her to color and make things out of mud. I had gotten yelled at for doing perfectly acceptable things with that same baby – things that turned out to be not so acceptable. My life had been changed in a way that I would always remember and never regret, no matter what had happened. And I'd had my heart torn out by two very angry parents.

"I don't think I understand, Emily," I told her hopelessly, looking down to study my feet. "Claire's parents made it all too clear –"

"Claire's parents will not have custody of her forever." Emily interrupted _me_ this time, dropping her gardening gloves and folding her arms stubbornly across her chest. "Have you thought about that? She's very young now, yes, but she's going to be capable of making her own decisions some day. And you certainly will be able to wait until that time." She finished with an obvious air, as though I should have been able to come up with this conclusion on my own.

I raised my eyes from my feet to stare at her again, aghast, still discouraged. "Emily, there is no way Claire would choose to spend time with me if it angers her parents – "

"How could you possibly know that would be her decision?" Emily looked at me disapprovingly, as though she was disappointed at my obvious willingness to give up. Hell, _I_ was getting annoyed with how gutless I was acting! But what was I supposed to do? "I think you are forgetting something else," Emily continued, now with a hint of smugness.

I had no idea what she meant, and was becoming very confused – and more than a little annoyed – at her flippant attitude. I narrowed my eyebrows grumpily. She just kept talking.

"Are you forgetting that you are speaking to someone who has _been_ imprinted on? That I _know_ what Claire will feel like?" She outright _smirked_ at me, this time.

"What are you saying?" I wasn't following at all. But hey, I think losing your reason for existence is a pretty good excuse for being a little sluggish.

She sighed, exasperated, and looked to the sky as though inquiring as to why she had to deal with slow-witted werewolf adolescents. "I'm _saying_ that Claire _will_ have the option of spending time with you, even if her parents say otherwise. I _hated_ Sam in the beginning, because it looked to me as though he had ditched Leah, my own cousin, for someone he had barely met. And I _still_ ended up becoming his friend, and even falling in love with him, after that – and even after… what happened." She subconsciously motioned toward the scarring on her face. "And what's the worst thing _you've_ done? Offended her parents because of something that happened that was beyond your control?" She snorted again, but her eyes softened. "Quil, you're underestimating the effect of how you act around her. Trust me – you've matured more in the past week than many boys do in all of their teenage years." She was looking at me now with something like… _pride_, I realized, shocked. "It's honestly amazing, the transformation you've gone through since you met Claire. And it's obvious to anyone who bothers to look, how much you care about her and about making _her_ happy, instead of thinking about what _you_ want… because whatever she desires seems to _become_ what you want. Even if what she wants _does_ lead into some interesting predicaments," she added dryly.

I ignored that last bit, as something warm began to blossom in the pit of my stomach, chasing away the desire to throw myself off of something – the realization that Emily was _right_. I _had_ been acting differently, and I could trace the new sense of awareness to the day Claire entered my life – the day I ceased to be Number One, the day I truly became a protector. Surely her parents could somehow discern that I wanted nothing that was not the best for her _right now_! I would simply have to… nudge them along a bit.

"You know, Quil," Emily said thoughtfully, interrupting my epiphany. "I'm sure I could talk with Julia and try to make her see reason. I might even be able to get her to meet with you again –"

I abruptly scooped Emily up and squeezed her against my chest in a bear hug, full of gratitude for the sense she had imparted, gathered just through her own observations, as well as for her offer. She really was exactly right for an alpha's mate, knowing just how to deal with all her wayward, mutant family. We were very lucky to have her.

Emily seemed startled at first at my sudden change in attitude, then started squirming, her muffled voice protesting. I let her go, smiled brightly, and then took off across the yard and through the trees, leaving her windswept and bemused. I was a quarter of a mile away in few moments, driven now by purpose instead of despair, but I had heard her quietly spoken words as she returned to the weeds: "That Quil. Couldn't even be depressed for an entire twenty-four hours. I _told_ Sam it wouldn't be long."


End file.
